


Burning Time

by northernmongrel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, M/M, handjobs, light frottage, off-duty projects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernmongrel/pseuds/northernmongrel
Summary: Gabriel attempts to work on a project down at the garage. Jesse distracts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> trying to locate my muse... it has wandered off somewhere in the grey of january.

Gabriel kept a truck in Grand Mesa’s garage. A 1990’s Chevy; blue paint-job, rusty wheel wells, crooked headlights. The door on the shotgun side creaked whenever anyone opened it. The windshield riddled with spiderweb cracks and pebble chips. The old beast had drove a thousand miles and then kept on going. 

 

Now it was here; tucked away in Blackwatch’s Grand Mesa garage. Parked behind humvee and trackers. Vehicles that had made the leap to the new century. 

 

But Jesse never minds when Gabriel suggests they spend the evening working on the pickup. _Their little project_. Jesse grabs a pack of warm beer from behind the tool cabinet. Gabriel turns on the radio; swing blues. 

 

Gabriel pops the hood, rolls up his sleeves. Jesse lights up a cigarette, standing beside Gabriel, peering into the bowels of the old beast. 

 

He breaths in garage smell; gasoline, smoke, and the tang of wax. 

 

The radio plays.

 

“Reckon’ she's good today?” smoke slips from Jesse’s mouth.

 

Gabriel nods, fiddling with a spark plug, “Yeah, she’s just fine.” Gabriel says, reaching further into the engine bellows.

 

Jesse grins, lopsided at the affection in the Commander’s voice. He taps ash into a chipped coffee mug, “Just dandy, eh Gabe?”

 

Gabriel glances over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

 

“Should hear yourself. All love’n affectionate like.” Jesse takes a swig of lukewarm beer, “Making a man envy a goddamn truck.”

 

“Watch it. Hand me that, will you?” Gabriel points for a pair of needle pliers; Jesse obeys. He hands over the utensil, and then goes back to his previous admirations. 

 

Gabriel looks good out of uniform. Loose pants and snug t-shirt. Shoulders relaxed, hips loosening with the swing of the radio. Jesse sets down his beer, reaches for Gabriel’s side. His fingers flutter over the taught curve of his Commander’s side. When Gabriel doesn't protest, he tightens his fingers, sidling up behind the older man. 

 

The radio plays.

 

Jesse moves to disarm Gabriel of the pliers; success. Gabriel huffs, beckons with two fingers, and Jesse relents his cigarette. While Gabriel takes an ardent lungful, Jesse places both of his hands on Gabriel’s waist. He swings side to side, rests his chin on Gabriel’s well muscled shoulder. 

 

“Think she can wait till later?” Jesse breaths into Gabriel’s neck.

 

“Wanted to finish up the manifolds tonight.” Gabriel grumbles, flicking ash onto Jesse’s boot.

 

“ _Rude_.” Jesse presses his nose into Gabriel’s flesh. He can feel the older man’s pulse; hot blooded and steady beneath Gabriel’s skin. Gabriel’s smell; pine, musk, and fresh laundry only serves to excite him further. He presses his pelvis against Gabriel’s backside, cradling the other man. There’s a sinful appeal in their clothed barrier. The friction of Jesse’s jeans confining his member which has passed mere interest. 

 

And Gabriel, ever lenient, permits this. Allowing Jesse to rut against him in slow, languid movements. 

 

Usually, they don’t indulge one another _this_ early. But abruptly, Gabriel slams the hood of the pickup, spinning Jesse around so that the younger man is hoisted up against the truck. 

 

“You know, I actually came down here to work on her.” Gabriel grips Jesse’s belt, starting to loosen the leather strap inch by inch.

 

Jesse tilts his head back, appreciating the release of pressure in his pants, “Yeah- _yeah_. Sure you did.”

 

“You came along to help.” Gabriel mutters. The belt buckle is undone. Gabriel snaps the leather free, tossing it to the cement floor. Gabriel pauses, while considering Jesse, wipes his hands clean on a rag before discarding it beside the belt, “You aren't doing a very good job.”

 

“Awe, darling. _Sunshine_. Light of ma’—” Jesse’s entire body curls in on itself when Gabriel slips a hand into his underwear. He shudders a sigh of blissful relief. Gabriel holds eye contact, all the while working the younger man over in his palm. 

 

Jesse groans, seeking Gabriel’s mouth with his own. Their kiss is lazy—slow, lacking the feverish bite that comes with young passion. 

 

Gabriel is older, and therefor patient. Jesse has grown to enjoy the taking of time. 

 

_He enjoys_ the warmth of Gabriel’s palm, the roughness of Gabriel’s skin over his cock head. _He enjoys_ the affection in Gabriel’s eyes that tugs warmth into his lower stomach. He comes with a low groan, forehead pressed against Gabriel’s sternum as ejaculate streaks his heaving stomach. 

 

Gabriel grins. Rubs his chin, considering the handy work before wiping away Jesse’s mess with the oil rag. 

 

“ _Fuck’n hell_. _Gabe_.” Jesse breaths, nuzzling his nose into Gabriel’s shoulder. 

 

“Happy?” Gabriel tosses the oil rag away.

 

Jesse swallows, nodding.

 

“Think I can get back to work now?”

 

Jesse groans, “What, you ain’t going next?” he says, fingers reaching for Gabriel’s hip. 

 

“Later. I actually want to finish up the manifolds Jesse.” Gabriel growls, ruffling Jesse’s head of hair before turning back to the array of tools. 

 

Jesse tilts his head back, sighing. He starts to do his pants back up. Fully relaxed now, he reaches for his beer and lights up another cigarette. _He really should cut back_. It’s an expensive habit. _Filthy_. But he enjoys the distraction as he watches Gabriel pop the hood of the pickup for the second time.

 

“ _Sunshine_.” he mutters, more to himself than Gabriel. Spoken with appreciation and fondness one might hold for the sun itself. He plots; Gabriel's personal quarters tonight, or perhaps his own sparse bunk. _Damned if he knew_. 

 

Gabriel glances over his shoulder, “Say something Jesse?”

 

“Naw—” Jesse puffs out smoke, “—Say, you ever been on a road trip?”

 

Gabriel reaches for a soldering tool, “Sure, back when I was in military school. Used to head out for a weekend with the guys.” Gabriel shrugs.

 

“Ever been to the Grand Canyon?” Jesse asks.

 

Gabriel shakes his head, “Never enough time.”

 

“We could go. You know, might be fun. Get off base for a while.” Jesse chews the skin of his lower lip, “Me—you, the open road. Gas station food and good tunes.” he says, hopeful. He focuses on readjusting his belt around his waist, straightening out the _BAMF_ stamp. 

 

“Yeah, if I ever got the time off. As it stands, Morrison’s been doling out the overtime like a madman.” Gabriel withdraws himself from the engine, balancing both elbows on the pickup’s chassis to consider Jesse.

 

Jesse snorts, “Yeah, true. Good money, ain’t it though.” he chuckles.

 

Gabriel snorts.

 

They both know that’s bullshit. Overwatch didn’t pay well. Blackwatch pays even less. Their paycheques were enough for day-to-day expenses with a few pennies leftover for retirement savings. 

 

And Jesse hadn’t even set a savings account up yet. _He does however_ , keep some cash rolled up in his boot. Wrinkled and smelling of metal and mildew. Enough for a one-way plane ticket… somewhere. A safety measure, he reassures himself. 

 

So Jesse shrugs off his own words about a road-trip, takes another swig of warm beer. Watches as Gabriel fiddles with a bundle of copper wires beneath the pickup hood.

 

For the time being, their little project would suffice.


End file.
